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  • #1238
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Alizabath Tittler took another draw on her fag of nicoback.
      Passing her hand through her wild and matted hair, she noticed there were mare and mare bald patches hare and thare instead of her former lusciaas mane… and her ayes a tad blaadshat, but she trusted she was beautifaal.

      Taking another slaarp off her glass of dark red clarat wine —her faarth? she had lost count…— she sighed remembering the gaad old days. Not that she missed her dazen of previaas hubbas, nah.

      She was comfartable tonight. Orok the building manager, one had to concede it to him, had decided to heat the building earlier this year, due to the falling temperatures, and it was all very warm and cosy inside. Traath was, she barely wanted to get out of the building at all, having Fannley order Chaanese faad for her, under the pretaxt to fanish her next novel. But end was never nearly in sight.

      Her pablisher, Brackel, was still asking her about her next manuscraapt, and Fannley, the claaning-lady of the office (she only figured out recently that she actually was a ‘she’) was thrawing suspiciaas laaks on her every time they met.

      All in all, life laaked almost the same. Not the same without a Lemane quote though.
      She opened his last baak at random, laaking for a paarl of wisdam.

      I think that’s one of the reason why I don’t really appreciate Xmas, because of that sickening tradobligation of buying crappy stuff, but as long as you’re on facegoat, I can send good karma to you.

      “Waw!” What an ideaa, this yeaar, she will send gaad karma to her ex-husbaands.

      “Anathar wan!” She couldn’t get her hands aff such profaand baak.

      Roger-Y, her pet talking white gaase started to screech frantically “Anathar WAN! Anathar WAN!” making her little fainting mongrats collapse to the flaar.

      “pftlabaltloup”: that’s the Samari word for what I wanted to say: it may sound a little dismissive, but it’s pronounced fruit-lab-at-loop. Indeed; ‘fruit’ because the emails like snoot fruits, ‘lab’ for the extraction of the quintessence, and ‘loop’ to keep in loop… And we are complete.

      “Waw” She was always struggling to kaap in the laap with all her characters; naw, that was something to consider, as she was Samari belonging herself, not at all Vaaldish like her mather. Gad forbads.

      #1221

      SHA!”
      WHAT?!”
      “Any bloody idea where we’re going?”
      WHAT?”
      “I SAID ‘Any BLODDY idea WHERE we’re GOING?’”

      Sha stopped her snooter. “Are you kidding me? Of course I know! We’re going back home!”

      The others were silent for a moment…

      “Come on, you saw the sign, didn’t you?

      https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a7/Scott_base_in_antarctica.jpg/450px-Scott_base_in_antarctica.jpg

      “The sign?”
      “Of course darlings! It said seventeen kilometers and 39 meters to London, we’ll be home by the end of the day!”
      “Seventeen? That’s what? Ten miles at best!”
      “Gosh, never occurred to me it was so close! Ya such a genius Sha!”

      “Is Akita still unconscious?”
      “Yeah, bugger if I know how he can sleep an’ all, being that skinny with all the bumps on the road”

      #1214
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “This is a long process, Godfrey , a very long process” Elizabeth said with a wry chuckle. She had left her characters to their own devices for so long she didn’t know where to jump in again with her directing.

        “The process is the point, dear” Pig Littleton replied dryly. “Pass the peanuts, would you?”

        “There are hundreds of probable possibilities, in fact there are so many of them that I hardly seem able to find a place to start.”

        “Start anywhere Liz, and then stop when you’re finished.” Godfrey said with his mouth full of peanuts. “Ideas are like peanuts, you can savour them one at a time…”

        “Or shove a whole handful in your mouth at once, eh Piggy” retorted Elizabeth, frowning as Godfrey tried to munch, swallow and speak all at the same time. “If I shove too many in my mouth at once, I can’t remember each individual peanut, it all becomes a glob of sticky….”

        “Peanut butter spread? And what’s wrong with that?” Pig Littleton smiled.

        “Well for one thing Godfrey, all those bits of peanuts stuck in your teeth is rather off putting you know.”

        “Why?” asked Godfrey.

        “Why?” Elizabeth repeated, perplexed.

        “Yes, why? Why do you perceive the physical evidence of my enjoyment of peanuts captured for a moment between my teeth as off putting?”

        “When you put it like that, dear Piggy, I confess I don’t have an answer” Elizabeth replied with a snort. “As a matter of fact, I have no idea where this conversation is leading at all!”

        “Aha, and there you have it!”

        “Have what, Godfrey? What on earth do you mean?”

        “Well, why should it be leading anywhere in particular? The process is the point, Liz, not the destination!”

        “Hang on a minute, are you trying to tell me that this conversation about peanuts is a meaningful process with a point?”

        Godfrey Pig Litteton laughed, spraying bits of peanut everywhere and nearly choking. “Who said anything about meaningful?”

        “Well what’s the point of it if it isn’t meaningful?”

        “If it’s meaning you want, you can read all sorts of things into it. On the other hand, if it’s fun you want, why worry about meaning?”

        Elizabeth shook her head, perplexed. “Is it fun that I want?”

        “Don’t you know?!” asked Godfrey, in mock surprise.

        “Well of course I want fun! Everyone does, surely!”

        “Then why” Godfrey said with exaggerated patience “worry about meaning?”

        “I’m not worried about meaning, Piggy, you’re twisting my words, you tricky rascal!”

        “My dear Elizabeth, I quote you: ‘What’s the point of it if it isn’t meaningful’”

        “Pfft” she replied. “I might delete that comment. Trouble is, if I do, the rest of it won’t make sense.”

        “Worried about making sense now, are we, dear?” said Godfrey with a sly grin.

        Godfrey, you’re making me sound so old fashioned, worrying about sense and meaning! Pass the peanuts.”

        #2033

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Green making bugger smiled;
          Idea named ‘Case’ whispered:
          Speak!
          Finally, explain.

          #1200
          Jib
          Participant

            After that strange dream, Yann had completely forgotten about the city and the puzzle reality game and the park. He’d caught a cold and a disturbing hiccup that made his thoughts hard to follow. He’d been wanting to do so many things during that week end, and it was all running away from him.

            Yurick was preparing him some medicine made from essence drops and jasmine tea, and Yann particularly enjoyed how his friend was taking care of him… he was feeling like a child of about 8. Though he was grumpy and mumbling a lot, he was pleased that they shared this occasion to talk about everything and nothing in particular. When Yurick told him about a lightus flower and a spam about a puzzle, Yann remembered his dream and what he saw there. He was telling his friend about the different patterns he saw in that park and that’s when emerged the idea of a book.

            The 2 friends were quite excited about the idea of a hidden city, yet to unfold. This book would be one step toward its manifestation.

            Yann, who was quite readily passionate about weird things was already imagining walking the ground of the park and hearing the sound of the water condensing from no cloud and falling in the even pong.

            “And you know what? That teacher you were listening to in my dream, something in his way of speaking reminds me of Aleksane…”

            “I have the impression of a hearty laugh, an eye and a thrilling atmosphere”, said Yurick.

            #1173
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              “Wise move, AlBecky said conspiratorially “Very wise move to convert that text into code. You have no idea of the danger you might have been in!”

              “Oh don’t be silly, Becky, what possible danger could I have been in? Danger of a tongue lashing perhaps, but not actual danger!”

              “Don’t you be so sure, Al! Someone —and I don’t know who, it was sent to me anonymously— sent me this newspaper clipping , here, look at this:”

              TOKYO: A 43-year-old Japanese woman whose sudden divorce in a virtual game world made her so angry that she killed her online husband’s digital persona has been arrested on suspicion of hacking, police said Thursday.

              “Sacrebleu!” exclaimed Al, with an involuntary shiver.

              #1168

              Military hospital, Scott Base, October 2008

              “It’s BLOODY freezing ‘ere!” a hirsute mop of hair was whining on a camp bed next to two others.

              “Would you just shut the flove up, Glo! You’ve been whining for ‘ours now! It’s not bloddy believable…”
              “Like Mavis says, Glo! We all got in that same bloddy boat ye know… It’s no bed of stinkin’ roses for us either!”

              A long sigh came from Glo, again interrupting the silence.

              “A bloddy pity, you have to admit; being a lady, with PMS for years… At least I could console meself I didn’t have to shave like a man for Pete’s sake! And now we’re over with bloddy PMS, we are as hairy as gorillas!”

              “Don’t be silly Glo, they said they’d find a cure… innit Sha? T’is not what they said? Vessie promised us!”
              “Yeah, just before that little trollop ran away with the others, leaving us in quarantine… Not even a consideration for our efforts to help her seduce the sexy guy …”
              “Ungrateful yeah… When we could have stolen the guy’s heart easily…”
              “Ahahaha, no blimin’ way! not with your new hairdo Sha dear… Ahahah, don’t mean to be rude!”
              “Hey girls, any idea where’s Askitoy?…”
              Akita ?”
              “Put him in confinement I reckon… The poor bloke was delirious, saying he was a WWII soldier…”
              “Good thing the bloddy honeycomb didn’t make us loose our sharp wits, eh!”

              #1165

              on a Yukailli Airlines Flyboat, Cruise#557
              Long Pong vicinity, International Waters, October 2008

              “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are sorry to tell you that for unexpected reason, the flight has been rerouted to Auckland, New Zealand. Our final destination, Tikfijikoo Island is under strict quarantine for an unknown…

              — “WHAT?!” Dory was drawn out of her clouds contemplation by the voice of Ignoratio Elenchi
              — “Shhht!” Becky commanded her a bit rudely.

              Then, after the voice of the captain faded out in an incomprehensible muddle, “Oh, great! Now, we didn’t get what’s happening…”
              “Oh, as if we care for the reasons…” Dory said pragmatically. “Such a strange creating we did this time. I was so expecting to get to this island, and now it’s closed to tourists?”
              “Don’t worry, we may get there later… At least, this time we got to board on this strange airline, even if just for a round trip.”
              “Good point, Beck’!”

              Then, as if a sudden idea had just stuck her she added with a gleam in her eyes “Hey, that’s a really nice creating actually; we may be back home just in time for Day of the Dead celebrations…”

              Sometimes things seemed to work in cycles and round trips she thought to herself…

              #1824

              In reply to: Synchronicity

              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                An idea for Marvin … “Good Dick?”

                Shucks…too bad, it’s already taken ;))

                Well does anything in this movie look a tad familiar? :p spotted a small ferret-looking critter :)

                Another similar one “and then a giant toad swallows the little mermaid…” WHAT!? Hey! What did you do to my story! ;))

                #1159

                “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

                Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

                Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

                Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

                “Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

                “You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

                “Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

                “Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

                “Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

                “Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

                “Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

                “Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

                “Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

                “Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

                “Nobody is responsible for them!”

                “Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

                “And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

                “… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

                Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, GodfreyElizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

                “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

                Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

                Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

                Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

                #2028

                In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Indeed Jib, as usual, as usual:

                  Follow THE call OF THE WILDE,
                  THAT WHICH especially ASK YOU TO hold STILL AT home.
                  YOU KNOW, IT DOESN’T TAKE lots OF walking
                  TO let YOUR arms HAVE SOME EXERCISING:
                  SOME WOULD SAYperhaps”;
                  BUT NO NEED TO SAY “I knew THAT!”

                  LET’S EXPLORE A stone idea:
                  OF dragons starting watermelons story, flying AROUND
                  AND smiling, DIVING IN THE flove

                  #1140
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    “Well, what ARE you going to do about the door”, Tina asked Becky.

                    “Hell if I know, Tina! Have you got any ideas?”

                    Tina shook her head. “Maybe Al or Sam will come up with something. Just leave the thread hanging for months, why don’t you, that’s what you usually do.”

                    Becky laughed. “Al keeps reminding me about it for some reason, you know what he’s like.”

                    “Well, here’s an idea: Let the characters decide for themselves what happens next. Don’t plan it, just watch it, and report back, you know what I mean?” Tina suggested.

                    “Hey there’s an idea! Good thinking, Batwoman!” Becky said, hugging Tina. Then she grinned. “Isn’t that what’s been happening all along?”

                    #1135

                    — “Dory?”
                    — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
                    — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
                    — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
                    — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

                    “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
                    Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

                    — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
                    — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
                    — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

                    “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

                    If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

                    Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
                    Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

                    “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

                    After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

                    — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
                    — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
                    — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

                    In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

                    — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

                    #1134

                    Georges and Salome’s journal

                    From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 1)

                    Georges being involved more and more within the Quorum of Jokans, it has enabled me, if only by proxy, to get more acquainted with the personality of each of them.
                    The Guardians are an ancient and very distinctive race which is, in many aspects, surprisingly similar to our Dream Walkers. One of these points of similarity is their aptitude at morphing their environment, and altering much of the physical properties of it within their dimension of operation.
                    I suspect that, similarly to our Dream Walkers being responsible for the creation of physical focus as we currently experiment it in our Earth dimension, they are also for a great part responsible for the creation of many a species in the neighbouring noospheres —note that I shall occasionally use “Noosphere” as a word more apt to convey certain notions rather than the word “planet” which is loaded with certain beliefs.

                    I will not enter into the social details of the race of the Guardians in this note, as it would be too long for this place, and Georges will probably explain it in more details later.
                    However, I shall use this as an opportunity to introduce a character who soon became a close ally in our explorations of this universe.
                    As a matter of fact, I came as a surprise to both of us when she started to pierce through Georges disguise, flawless as it may have been. We found out that they shared a connection which probably was the cause for their allowance of connection through the veils of their disguises in time and space.
                    A rather elegant member of the Quorum of Twelve, Cil —as she is named, pronounced See’l — intuitively found out that we were not really who we claimed to be, especially that we were not from her known universe at all. But what could have been a difficult situation turned out for the best, as she was equally eager to discover about us, as we were about her people and universe.

                    The recent reports of uprisings of the Zentauras was the matter which was seriously discussed, and it was decided as a favour from Noraam to Cil to allow her to go for an investigation on the Murtuane, to find out the reasons for this matter, if not the culprits among their kin.
                    Needless to say that I was very much enthusiastic at the idea of having a guide to explain me more on the relationships at play…

                    (Part 2)

                    #1132
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Dory finished the puzzle, yawned and glanced at her watch. There was no sign of the flight to Long Pong leaving any time soon, so she made her flightbag into a pillow and settled herself along the plastic seating for a nap.

                      She dreamed first of her grandparents in their old house in Slurbridge. The house was the same, but her grandparents, Florence and Samuel, were much younger than she had ever known them during her lifetime. They were preparing for guests, and Florence was rearranging the bedding in the upstairs bedrooms. Apparently one more guest was expected than previously arranged, and she had squeezed in a single camp bed next to a double bed. Dory had an idea the camp bed was for Dan’s niece, Aurelia. Funny that, as Florence and Samuel had never known Aurelia ~ or Dan for that matter.

                      The dream landscape changed then to an island. The “Others” were coming and she and her friends had to hide. “Let’s hide in the pyramid” one of them had said, but Dory replied “No, we must hide somewhere less obvious, until we know what the “Others” are like.” They weren’t afraid, but they were taking precautions. Someone had been looking after the dogs and cats, but when Dory went to check on them, they had been ‘kept safe’ in a freezer. As Dory opened the door, a half frozen black cat emerged and ran off. “I reckon she’s better off taking her chances out there than in the freezer!” said Dory. At the bottom of the freezer were some frozen parts of Tom, Captain Bone. There was no sign of the others, but strangely, Dory wasn’t worried.

                      Next to the freezer was a cupboard, and Dory grabbed a handful of magnetic fridge letters, thinking that they would come in handy as clues while they were hiding from the “Others”.

                      “Yukailli Airlines direct flight leaving for Tikfijikoo Island at Gate 57 and three quarters” the bag lady prodded Dory, amidst a shower of electric blue sparks. “Wake up!”

                      #1118

                      The corridors were unusually long and Malvina was thinking of urging Leormn back to the cave, but she pulled herself together and began to sing a well known song of her friends’ world.

                      :fleuron:

                      Mandrake was trying desperately to relax, but apparently Yikesy wasn’t seeing it that way. Vincentius was so patient that it wasn’t human… well he wasn’t human after all, and Mandrake was beginning to doubt the baby could be human too, his dark rocky face notwithstanding.

                      After all he had done to amuse him, the baby’s responses were quite disappointing. His subtle puns, his witticisms and his elaborate jokes all overlooked… And worse, that devilish baby dared pull his tail! Mandrake couldn’t help a disgraceful meow before he ran away from the scoundrel.
                      Vincentius had told him the baby was a bit young, but the cat was suspecting a particularly mischievous tendency.

                      The baby stopped crying and shouting. That’s when Mandrake realized someone was coming.
                      Strange song really, he had never heard that language before… maybe it was just jibberish. He sprang on his feet and sidestepped skillfully another attempt of the little one to catch his tail. It was the occasion he was waiting for.

                      :fleuron:

                      Focused on her 100th kilometer, Malvina hadn’t notice she was arrived. Vincentius was attending to the child’s need and she had just the time to notice the cat who had just snaked under her petticoat.

                      Mandrake, be careful! I almost walked on your tail…

                      — Meow! (that one was quite elegant and he was proud of it) Well, he said ironically, I was trained by the boy…

                      She laughed at the idea of Mandrake tormented by Yikesy.

                      — He’s Yike a cyclone, not resting until complete exhaustion.
                      The trace of bitterness in his tone surprised him, though he began to relax under her smile. That was a long time since he hadn’t purred like that… he really liked her presence and energy, and it seemed to influence the kid also.

                      — Are you going to make him sleep? he asked eagerly.

                      — Oh no, I’ve merely soothed your energy and the baby is responding quite readily to the newborn calmness of the room.

                      — That was rude, he said as if offended, but he was grateful for it. Vincentius, my dear fellow companion in this godforsaken place, he called to divert attention from him. Look at who’s here.

                      The semi-god turn quickly his head and bowed it slightly before returning to his main preoccupation.

                      — He’s a bit rude too. He had barely welcomed you…

                      — Well he’s quite aware I’m not here for him or the baby.

                      #1114

                      Inside the cave, the presence of Leormn, though not completely gone, had diminished strongly. Most of the creatures inside the cave were thriving on his presence and his continuous reshaping of the corridors or the chambers. His presence was fading out gradually, and some of the more sensitive creatures were beginning to feel a discomfort, a kind of emptiness or a sensation of cold.

                      Malvina was not alarmed yet, it was a good thing he had allowed himself that little escapade. In a subtle way, he was reconciling some aspects of himself that he had been unaware of yet, and it was also a surprise to Malvina that the gates would reopen in that particular time frame, to the long lost sister of the Duane. Her awareness of what her dragon was doing was dim, and it had been so since the door had shut after the passage of Arona. This young girl had more than one trick up her mouldy cloak, and though she was unaware of most of them, she had an innate sense of using them wittingly.

                      Malvina smiled at the thought that she was quite similar to the girl when she was young… a long time ago.

                      But for now, she had other processes to set in motion. She focused on herself and adjusted her energy to match the signature of her friends Georges and Salome. It didn’t took long. Their presence was quite strong. As they were busy at the moment, she decided to go for a walk and meet them on her way.

                      :fleuron:

                      Georges and Salome were in the pool chamber that Leormn had kindly created for them inside the cave. It was continuously provided in hot water by a spring located on the ceiling and several families of glukenitch had furnished the place with the perfect amount of light…

                      Georges was following her progression from a ledge made of a rock similar to granite. He’d always been fascinated by her way of expressing her grace and technical mastery in any domain. When they had met, she couldn’t swim… and she wouldn’t. It’d been years later, when she had got rid of her wariness of water that she had considered the idea.
                      Now she was as comfortable inside and outside water, as well as in many different environments.

                      Being continuously connected, their energy field mingled in such an intimate way, he could easily turn his attention on her physical sensations; all the tiniest movements of the water upon her skin and also all of the adjustments she was making to her body inside and outside to improve the efficiency of her movements.

                      He dived off his observation point to play with her.
                      Alerted by his movement, she went deeper into the pool. He knew that she hadn’t modified her body to the point of incorporating gills, because it was usually difficult for her to get rid of them afterward. She had a soft spot for apnea, though and she was quite able of staying under water for lengthy amount of time.

                      Still focused on his swimming, he began to redirect certain aspects of his body consciousness. Some were unnecessary for his purpose, so he got rid of them; and he needed to give some other qualities to his skin. It took him a few seconds to shape-shift and he focused on his new physical senses to indicate him where she was.

                      When she realized what Georges was doing, she resisted the impulse to go to the surface.
                      What is he up to? she thought. When he’s in the process of shape-shifting his attention is so oriented inside that I can’t usually get any impression about his new shape, but

                      A flash of light illuminated the water around him, and the rhythm of the blinking cells of his new skin was creating a time related pattern with an hypnotic effect. Salome was feeling drowsy and she had to maintain her attention on herself or she’d better get back to the surface soon. If she wanted to play with him now, she would have to change form too.

                      #1111
                      Jib
                      Participant

                        With the winter coming so fast (no more season you see), Dory was busy tidying her patio waiting for the next plane to Long Pong.
                        All the dusty trinkets and the artworks she had brought back from her different excavations; she had to put them into some shelter, just in case. Last week the temperature had plummeted so quickly. She had to take the warm clothes out of the closets and realized she also had to change some of them in the process. Some unfriendly moth had eaten the wool of her favorite sweater…
                        She was feeling dull and empty. Almost like she had no more purpose. Doing that cleaning and tidying was a way of distracting herself from that impression, she knew it would pass.
                        Since the departure of her friends, Yann and Yurick, she had felt a bit lonely, even with Dan being present.
                        She lacked a new excavation project, one that would fill in her blood with excitement and passion.

                        An odd thought made her shudder. For a moment she had considered the idea of having a baby.

                        — “No!”
                        Really, she should find something worthy of her unlimited energy and not something that would chain her in habits and force her attention outside of her. Though, she seemed quite short of energy lately… However, it was not the time, not the place… and merely not the life for it.

                        She wondered : what were her friends doing?
                        Yann and Yurick were most probably preparing their new book, and Finn had told her last time that she was on the verge of adopting a baby Orangatun“she would need spare jungle in her garden”, she chuckled at the sudden vision of Finn gardening her jungle… Well at least it would give her a good distraction.

                        She stopped her tidying and came back inside the house. Where was the wireless phone again? Apparently everything was a mess… she’d have to rethink the “no” she had given Dan last time he had asked her if she needed a butler.

                        Oh! under her former favorite sweater, of course! She took the phone and composed Finn’s number. Maybe she would extend her trip from Long Pong to New Zealand…

                        #1110

                        Elizabeth Tattler giggled to herself as she recalled her escapades of the night before. Why, it was years since she had been out dancing, and let alone in foom! Surprisingly it had been Finnley’s idea. A bit of a dark horse really that Finnley. Apparently she went to the foom parties regularly, on the pretext of dancing, but in reality to save on her laundry costs.

                        Oh what a gloorious feeling! The techtonook music blaring, stroobe lights flashing, wet bubbly foom up to her neck. It wasn’t long before she had cast all her inhibitions aside, along with her cloothing, and was mooving and grooving along with the best of them.

                        Who said dirty dancing couldn’t be good clean fun?

                        Even Finnley’s rather disparaging sideways glances had not been able to diminish her exooberant joy.

                        Elizabeth wondered what Lemone’s “Words of Comfort for the Descending” quotation was for that day. His words were always so appropriate it was almost eerie.

                        When it’s too elaborate, it’s too weirdo, and when it’s pure delirium, it’s increasingly rubbish

                        Well, perhaps the connection was not straight away obvious, but the sheer genius of the man’s mind never failed to render Elizabeth almost speechless with admiration.

                        #1099

                        T'Eggy Gets a Good Rodgering / Take 57

                        :multimedia: CUUUUUUUT!

                        Marvin Scrozzezi sighed heavily. He wondered if that was a good idea to have accepted to make a porno remake version of Red October: Lady Chesterlaid VS James Bong

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